


Day Five: Honeymooning

by Uwansumadamboi



Series: Kinktober 2018 [5]
Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Excessive use of the word darling, M/M, Mirror Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 10:24:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16195640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uwansumadamboi/pseuds/Uwansumadamboi
Summary: Back in Eddie’s lair, Waylon sat at what had to be a grotesque parody of a bridal vanity – constructed of several mirrors hoisted on top of an old crafts table and crudely taped down to it. His mangled leg ached, a constant dull ache that was occasionally interrupted by sporadically placed sharp, shooting pains from his ankle to his hip. He tried not to move it much, he didn’t need or want to cause himself any more pain and suffering than strictly necessary.A few tubes of lipstick, concealer, eye liner and other sorts of makeup littered the table. Waylon looked at them with trepidation. He had never done any makeup before, but he supposed that he was going to have to figure it out as soon as possible, if he wanted to keep Eddie happy with him. The idea of going home and seeing Lisa and his boys ever again was far divorced from his mind at this point.All he was focused on right now was his own survival. He was trapped in Gluskin’s lair and he firmly believed that Waylon was his pretty little wife. He expected Waylon to act accordingly, to be obedient and soft spoken and as submissive as something straight out of the 1950s.





	Day Five: Honeymooning

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt is cross dressing and mirror sex ヾ(=`ω´=)ノ”

Eddie Gluskin was having the time of his life, now that his Darling was here with him, at home, right where she belonged. She was so beautiful, so vibrant. Always playing games with him, running off and having him chase her down, the little minx. He had chased her for hours before he finally caught her with her leg caught in a snare, poor thing. Eddie had scooped her up and taken her back home with him, she clung to him the whole time – scared for her life and in pain from her injury, no doubt. 

He had been stern with her – she had already shown him that she needed a firm hand to guide her, for her own good – reminding her harshly that she should not be so rowdy in the future and that she could have been seriously hurt if he hadn’t been able to save her. She had been so sweet, clinging to him more and muttering soft platitudes and keening apologies. He was just so happy, – so, so happy to have his Darling here with him again that he forgave her immediately. 

Back in Eddie’s lair, Waylon sat at what had to be a grotesque parody of a bridal vanity – constructed of several mirrors hoisted on top of an old crafts table and crudely taped down to it. His mangled leg ached, a constant dull ache that was occasionally interrupted by sporadically placed sharp, shooting pains from his ankle to his hip. He tried not to move it much, he didn’t need or want to cause himself any more pain and suffering than strictly necessary.

A few tubes of lipstick, concealer, eye liner and other sorts of makeup littered the table. Waylon looked at them with trepidation. He had never done any makeup before, but he supposed that he was going to have to figure it out as soon as possible, if he wanted to keep Eddie happy with him. The idea of going home and seeing Lisa and his boys ever again was far divorced from his mind at this point. 

All he was focused on right now was his own survival. He was trapped in Gluskin’s lair and he firmly believed that Waylon was his pretty little wife. He expected Waylon to act accordingly, to be obedient and soft spoken and as submissive as something straight out of the 1950s. 

If it would help him survive long enough until he could get himself out of Murkoff for good, then he would play along – be the sweet and soft spoken woman that Eddie was deluded into believing that he was, no matter how much he didn’t want to. It could be worse, he thinks, Eddie could have gone through with the surgery. Why he hadn’t, Waylon had no idea but he was glad that he was left in tact.

Eddie’s large hands braced Waylon’s bare shoulders, the dress already falling off of him. It was an old fashioned kind of thing, it reminded him of something that he might have seen Lisa wearing to a brunch with her friends. It was short, only reaching his knees, with sleeves off the shoulders and a cut to it that almost gave the illusion that Waylon had any breasts to speak of – Waylon had to admit that it was well crafted, especially seeing that it was probably crafted out of old sheets and torn up uniforms. 

He nuzzled in close, the scarring of his cheek rubbing obtrusively against the flesh of Waylon’s bare shoulder. “How are you doing, Darling?” He asked, pressing a few kisses to the exposed flesh in front of him. Waylon swallowed, trying his best to say the right thing – Eddie had already shown that he had a temper with a hair trigger and he didn’t want to anger his captor again. 

Especially when he might lose his life if he does. Waylon has no other choice so he stays quiet, plays the part of the sweet newlywed to the best of his abilities until he has an opening. Until he can get the hell away from this psychopath.

“I’m… fine.” He said, voice quiet, high and demure like the woman that Eddie believed him to be. He turned slightly, giving the other man a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for…” he grit his teeth and swallows down the bile that comes up. “Thank you for saving me.” He wonders if it would be too much to say, “I love you” to Eddie. He wonders if that would cause him elation or suspicion. 

He decides against it, because even if it has the right effect on Eddie – even if it causes him elation and makes him so happy that Waylon can go weeks without being chased around and hit more – he is sure that he shouldn’t set that kind of precedent, at least not so soon. 

No, he was sure that he should save that kind of play until he really needed to use it. At least he thought that he was sure, but he began to have doubts when one of the larger mans’ rough hands slid underneath Waylon’s dress and slid up and down his thighs. 

“You are so beautiful, my darling.” He says in a tone that was peaceable and saccharine sweet. He never used Waylon’s name – his name didn’t matter anymore, it was a nonissue. He was, ‘Darling,’ ‘My Darling’ ‘My Love’ ‘Sweetheart’ or ‘Baby’ now.

Waylon almost believes, in that moment, that he could let himself be deluded into thinking that this is acceptable – like it’s some kind of real, consensual relationship. So long as he keeps Eddie happy. That was his life blood, his source of survival, his one and only way to avoid violence. 

Play your part. Make him happy. Know your place. Play your part. Make him happy. Know your place. 

While one of his hands massage into his thighs, Eddie’s other hand moves under the corset to play with and tease his ‘breasts’. His hands are rough, calloused like he had worked with them every single day of his life. He’s not sure if he doesn’t like how the rough texture of them sliding across his skin feels. 

His eyes closed and his mouth fell open as Eddie took to molesting his body, cooing to him like he was the most lovely thing in the world. He was right at the knife’s edge of curling up in disgust and liking what was being done to him – or at least he was liking how it felt, the sensation of it fully divorced from the fact that it was Eddie Gluskin touching him in the first place. He was right at that knifes edge when the touching stopped. 

Eddie pushed Waylon down so that he was on his elbows in front of the mirror. He let out a soft noise as one of the larger mans’ rough hands moved to his jaw and grabbed it roughly forcing it in place. “Look at yourself in the mirror, Darling.” He cooed, “Look how beautiful you are, look how beautiful we are together. I want you to keep your eyes open for me, my love. Can you do that for me?” 

It wasn’t really like he had a choice in the matter, but he feels the need to verbalize his ‘consent’ for some inexplicable reason. Maybe it propriety, “Oh… okay.” Waylon responds dumbly, head fixed towards the mirror with his jaw clenched hard. 

When he can see Eddie moving behind him, raising the skirt of his dress so that it was bunched up at his waist, he really notices just how large and imposing a figure that Eddie cuts – at least in comparison to him. He’s almost a foot taller than Waylon and built with firm muscles, dwarfing the smaller man.

Against his own wishes, his mind starts to wander to how large – how long and how thick, that Eddie’s cock will be. Anxiety begins to riddle through him with the thought that if Eddie is as large as he assumes, then he will tear Waylon’s insides up. Leave him bleeding, sore and raw. Completely ruin him inside and out. He has a feeling that if he escapes – and that’s a big IF – he has no doubt that he’ll be left with a permanent injury. 

Eddie must have noticed his anxiety, because he ran a hand up and down his back – massaging soothing circles into the smaller mans’ tautly pulled back. “Shh, shh. It’s alright, Darling. I know that you’re afraid, I understand that.” He hummed sympathetically, “You’re scared that it will hurt when we make love the first time, hm?” Waylon nodded pitifully and he nodded understandingly, “Now I won’t lie to you, it will probably hurt the first time. A woman’s work is never done, now is it?”

Waylon nodded, taking a strange sense of solace from Eddie’s words. The larger man petted him a little bit more, calming him down like he was a frightened animal. “I’ll try to be gentle with you.” He promised gently before he eased down onto his knees behind Waylon. 

Eddie pulled Waylon’s ass cheeks apart to reveal his hole, using his tongue to lav at his entrance and make it nice, wet and messy. Waylon started to whine, high in his throat, with desperation as the larger male rimmed him. He used broad strokes, with the flat of his tongue – occasionally fucking into him. 

To his own shame, Waylon’s cock began to harden from all of the attention that his hole was being given. Eddie made a satisfied noise as he pulled off of Waylon, “You taste lovely, Darling.” He muttered in a throaty tone. Waylon’s face burned in his embarrassment, hard cock smashed between the table underneath him and his stomach. He didn’t take his eyes off of the mirror out of fear for what Eddie might do to him if he sees that Waylon had disobeyed him. 

The next thing that he feels is Eddie’s hard cock nudging against his hole – he can’t see anything but he knows that it feels thick, like something that could tear him apart and Waylon takes steps to relax his body enough that the larger man’s cock doesn’t destroy his body permanently.

He braced his fingers tight against the edges of the table to ground himself as Eddie eased his cock into the younger man’s barely pliant, dry and unprepared hole. His cock wilted almost immediately as Eddie barely eased into him before he started to fuck into him like an animal, all hard and rough thrusts. God, it hurt. It hurt so much. It ached. 

He wasn’t at all surprised when he felt something inside of him tear, the slide of Eddie’s cock inside of him becoming much easier from the amount of bleeding that he was doing. He could feel the trickle of it sliding slowly down his thighs – tickling him in a strange and unwanted sort of way.

Despite the sting of it, despite the pain that being ripped had given him, he somehow began to feel pleasure from being fucking into. He felt Eddie’s hand knot into the curls on his head, forcing it up so that he had to look at himself again. He hadn’t even noticed that he wasn’t looking in the mirror, he had been so overwhelmed from the disturbing pleasure – pain that he felt from the rough fucking.

He didn’t want it to feel good, but his body decided that it would – he would feel pleasure, that his cock would harden to the point of being painful despite what he wanted. It didn’t take long for the feeling of Eddie fucking him to make him cum and for his cock to spurt out and make a mess all over his dress. 

Waylon prayed that Eddie didn’t acknowledge him cumming – cumming right from his own still, miraculously, intact cock. His cock that still hadn’t been castrated in some horrific butchery that would probably end up killing him. 

After Waylon came, Eddie fucked into him for what felt like hours of a constant, overstimulating drag of his cock – pumping in and out of Waylon’s throbbing entrance before he came himself. His hands quickly left Waylon’s waist and Waylon immediately fell off of the chair and onto the dirty, glass ridden ground below him. His leg throbbed with an intense sort of shooting pain and his insides throbbed cruelly. He looked up at Eddie, not knowing what the larger man might do – at this angle, he felt even smaller. 

“Ugh, Darling, look what you did!” Eddie snapped, causing Waylon looked up from the spot that he was curled up in. He made a couple of unintelligible noises in response, unsure of what he did. He flinched back as Eddie moved towards him, to scoop him up into his arms. He slapped Waylon hard across the face, eliciting a tiny cry of pain out of the smaller man. “You ruined your dress!”

“Oh.” Waylon exclaimed, almost pleased by that. He wouldn’t be forced into the dress anymore if it was covered in his own cum – and Eddie’s too. But he was smart enough not to say that, not to spit in Eddie’s face and say, ‘Good, I’m glad.’ or, ‘I hate you!’ or even, ‘Well, what did you expect?’ so he did what he had to do and bared his throat in submission. “I… I’m sorry.” He said as sincerely as he could.

“You just can’t do anything right, can you?” Eddie grumbled, as he carried him off. Eddie didn’t act like he was angry – it was more like he was merely bothered by the fact that he would have to sew Waylon another dress so soon – but Waylon had a sinking feeling that he would be lucky if all he got was a hard slap to the face.


End file.
